Home is the Hunter
by aquaesulis76
Summary: [Torchwood] Here it is the sequel as promised to 'Oh Captain.' The teams reaction's to Jack's awakening. Spoilers for End of Days.
1. Gwen

Home is the Hunter

AN: Here it is, the sequel to 'Oh Captain, My Captain' as promised. Thoughts, emotions and reactions to Jack's return. Hope I do the characters and the actors justice. Title is by Robert Louis Stephenson

Disclaimer: I own half a house & the contents, including a scary amount of books. I have a cat who owns me. Torchwood is nothing to do with me - although I wouldn't say no to receiving it as a present...

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1 - Gwen

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"He's gone, let him go." - Tosh

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She leant over, and gave the Sleeping Beauty of Torchwood a kiss he'd never know. With a heart to heavy to contemplate, she turned away from him for the last time. Slowly, deliberately, she walked in the opposite direction from the mogue table and it's unthinkable occupant. Her head was filled with Jack; memories flooding her till breathing was difficult. She could hear Jack's voice, so clearly, so vividly, it was as if he was still in the room, beside her.

"Thank you."

The atmosphere in the room changed, admitting a prescence she knew so well, dimmed, but there.

A gasp, a breath.

She turned back to the body lying still and white on the table. Except Jack wasn't still. His eyes were open, fixed on his upraised hand. Lips were parted, and as she reached his side, the old familiar chuckle filled surrounded her and warmed her in the same way Rhys' kiss had done after he had so nearly been lost to her.

She smiled, eyes moist, and gently stroked his hair back once again. Jack lifted eyes so dark compared to the bloodless skin around them, lips still so pale that her heart clenched. But Jack's eyes were alive, fiery, dancing, hell, any number of different variations on ALIVE! The pale lips stretched into a smile, and as she watched, a hint of colour stole back into Jack's cheeks. He stretches a hand towards her, and she quickly takes it, lacing his fingers in her's.

"What did you do with my clothes?"

Same old teasing tone to his voice, same old priorities. Same old Jack.

"Or did you have me dressed like this for a reason?" he added, with a sly wink.

"Ianto's got them, we were going to send them to a museum." She could match him snark for snark.

"Gwen." Amusement tinged the name, like friends meeting after too many years apart.

"I knew you'd wake up."

Jack nodded. No words necessary. Knowledge made his eyes even darker, haunted. Then the blinding smile returned, the one that could envelope you in a world where you were the most important thing within, a smile which made the troubles seem a little more bareable. A smile Jack dealt out impartially, to anyone who needed that comfort. She wondered suddenly who smiled at Jack in that way.

"Clothes?"

She blinked. Jack's smile had developed into a smirk, and he raised himself up onto his elbows. She grinned back, apologetically, and swung round.

"I left some over here - ready."she reassured him, collecting them from she'd tucked them.

"There's my Gwen." His voice was like chocolate, she thought. Deep and rich, with a hint of bitter if you searched. The voice whose absence had made the Hub a strange place.

"You going to turn around while I get dressed, or do you prefer to watch?"

Gwen lightly punched his shoulder, and hopped up onto the table, side by side with Jack, as he pulled on the trousers and dark blue shirt she'd picked out.

Abaddon was gone, Rhys was ok, Jack was back, and was laughing at her. The world settled, and slipped into it's natural orbit once more. Hand in hand, together, they walked out to find the others.

xxxXXXxxx

tbc

Hope you enjoyed...


	2. Tosh

Here's the next installment - 2/5

2 -- Tosh

Rebuilding Torchwood.

Assessing damage.

Maintaining control.

That's what her days had turned into. She knew it would take a long time for any of them to find a natural rhythm like the one they had had before.

Before Jack died. Before Gwen took to spending every moment possible looking over Jack's body. Before Ianto started looking like his whole world had shattered. Before Owen had become so withdrawn and silent.

This was a turning point in all their lives, and nothing would ever be the same again.

So. Rebuilding Torchwood, assessing damage, maintaining control. Getting Owen to brush up on any handyman's skills he may have picked up. Accessing Ianto's technical knowledge to help with repairs.

Then she moved a piece of equipment, and had a clear view to the 'morgue'. Saw Gwen walking out, smiling. Saw who was with her, hand in hand.

The world stopped. Her heart stopped. Sounds faded. Her vision blurred, then refocused, narrowed onto dark hair, chisled features and painfully familiar smile.

Suddenly she was moving, going towards him as he caught her eye and came forward. She brushed by Ianto without noticing, walking faster and faster till she was running.

Then she was there, in front of him and he was here. Safe, warm and back. His arms around her, comforting, reassuring, protecting. Her arms around him, welcoming, clinging, pleading.

Gwen had been right all along - Jack would always come back to them. He belonged to them, and they to him. How it happened, what it meant, why Jack couldn't die, were all questions to be answered at another time. Now, she just wanted to stay in this moment forever, feeling the weight of grief lift off her shoulders and, instead, having sheer, pure joy flood her at the solid figure in her embrace. Feeling his heart beating, steady and firm, hearing his warm chuckle and soft "Oh Tosh" in her ear, the brief kiss on her lips.

Jack was back, and everything could be normal again.

tbc

xxxXXXxxx

The next part will be up soon, and should be longer. Hope you enjoyed this one, despite it's brevity!


	3. Ianto

Next installment... 3/5

3 - Ianto

They all take turns to make the coffee now.

Of all the changes in the Hub since Jack d... faced Abaddon, that is one of the smallest, yet probably the one which says the most. They all take turns to make the coffee now.

Tosh is neatly efficient, bringing the grace of the Japenese tea ceremony to an alien dectection centre beneath Cardiff city centre. Owen's coffee making involves a lot of banging for some reason. Cupboards, jars, mugs, no matter. With Owen, if something can make a noise, it does. Gwen tends to get everything ready, then wanders back to Jack.

Himself though, he still gets five mugs out.

He's tidied up Jack's office. The safe is locked up with all it's contents secure again.  
Desk neat, ready for work. Jack's coat hung up, still holding the scent of Jack's aftershave.

He hasn't wanted to polish in there yet.

He's helping Tosh when it happens. Tosh has been itching to utilise his engineering skills ever since they found out about Lisa. Now she's sounding out just what he can do, so that they can get Torchwood up and running again. He's squatting on the floor, checking out something which will be lost to his memory forever. Suddenly he feels Tosh brush past him, and he looks up, startled. She's already moving on, so he turns his head, and freezes.

The earth stands still, his heart hiccups.

Tosh is running now, running towards the person he could not be seeing.

Could not possibly, because these things never happen to him. He doesn't get the happy-ever-after ending, the reward after all the trials. The miracle after all the pain. No, that doesn't happen to him.

Except... he is standing there, arms around Tosh, and Tosh is holding him tight, and Gwen is standing, smiling, and looking like she might cry, and Jack is smiling, oh god, Jack is smiling and moving, and...

Suddenly Jack is there, in front of him. Living, breathing, Jack.

He puts his hand up and out, then hovers, not sure what to do. Jack's face changes with an expression he has absolutely no ability left to decipher right now. Then Jack's firm, strong, warm hand is on his shoulder, and he's drawn into that solid embrace, and he begins to let himself hope.

But Jack won't let him cling on, Jack moves, and no, not yet. Please, he hasn't had enough, he's not ready to let go.

But then... lips meet lips, and he's home.

Jack's home, and the universe settles.

tbc

xxxXXXxxx

Halfway there! Hope you liked.


	4. Owen

Home is the Hunter 4/5 

A/N: Just an apology for taking my time getting this one up - I've had a bit of a bad week. Here is the next chapter though, hope you like it! Thanks to all those who have read this so far, and especially my regular reviewers! (ScoutGirl - your fic is coming soon!)

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Owen

Torchwood is a mess.

When all is weighed and balanced, the fault for the current state of affairs is one persons. Not Jack, certainly not Ianto, not even Bilis. Nope, at the end of the day, when all is said and done, and any other bloody cliche you want, it all comes down to Owen Harper.

Sorry, Dr Owen Harper.

'It.' Such a small, insignificant, stupid, non-word to describe everything around him.  
The damage opening the rift caused, the damage that damage caused...

...Jack.

No. Don't let his mind go there. Not to a person so vital, so necessary, lying upstairs with all life gone. Because of him. No. Not thinking about that.

So, instead he sorts out salvagable items, things to reuse, and those to be discarded. Then, tucking sundary bits and pieces around him, he heads upstairs. An automatic glance to where the others are always working these days, and his heart stops.

There's a vision in the Hub. A dream? A nightmare? Can you get mirages in Cardiff? It's Jack. At least, the person there looks like Jack. And Ianto seems sure. Seems very sure. Gwen was right after all then. Which means he did shoot Jack properly, with no handy alien body-armour involved. Which means Jack can come back from the dead. Jack...

Jack, hugging Ianto. Of all the images he didn't want in his head... but...

Jack.

He drops whatever it was he had been carrying, without dragging his eyes away. He wants to know, needs to know...

The couple break apart, and Jack meets his eye. It is Jack. No one else could replicate Jack's patented searching look, which always seems to read so much, too much, of his soul. What can Jack see there? The arrogant idiot who opened the rift, despite all pleas to the contrary, and against all protocal? The colleague who betrayed a trust, and broke into a personal safe? The friend who performed a deeper betrayal, who shot to kill, and who walked out on them through sheer jealousy, mistaken pride and hurt feelings.

Or can he see the man beneath all that? The man who has built his life around the mistakes he's always made. A man who learnt that people don't stay, so it's best to push away those you want to hold on to the most. A man who always fights the wrong battles, with the wrong people.

They're moving closer to each other now, Jack looking serious, but not angry. Would Jack send him away again, will Jack want him anywhere near the Hub, and the 'home' he'd found. Had he truly burnt all his future through his own idiocy.

He'd thought that he'd willingly give up everything he had if Jack would return. Now he had that wish granted, could he really ask for anything else? To be part of the team again? To have his life back, to once again be part of something that made his life worth living?

Jack puts his hands on his hips, the alpha male knowing he's on home turf and that he holds the dominant position.

He meets those assessing eyes, just about, and knows he has to do this properly. Offer his apologies, state his case man to man, and give any reassurances Jack wants. Accept any strictures Jack sets.

"I'm..." His voice dries, the words run out. What is there to say? Sorry is too little, too late, after all he did. What right does he have for forgiveness anyway?

"I forgive you." The words are sincere. Jack means them. Forgiveness, for all his mistakes, most importantly for wanting, for trying to kill Jack himself. Forgiven, completely and utterly.

The screws of pride and dignity which had been holding his soul together, had been tightened almost to breaking point. Jack released them, and the ocean broke. The tears he'd held back for too long sprang too readily to his eyes for comfort, and he could feel the sobs rising, like a child again.

Then, Jack's hand on his head, Jack's shoulder shielding him, and the return of the security and protection he'd found nowhere else.

Jack was home, and so was he.

tbc

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There it is. Hope you liked it! Please let me know if you did.


	5. Jack

Home is the Hunter - 5/5

A/N - and here it is! The final chapter in the fic I never intended to write. My grateful thanks to all those who have let me know how much they enjoyed reading this, you've really encouraged me to keep going. Now I'm going to rest my fingers, and plan out the other fics I've promised various people!

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5 Jack

Alive.

After that first moment of exquisite pain - the force of systems restarting - came the euphoria of being alive. Eyes open, mouth smiles, hand rises. He chuckles, he can't help it. Revelling in the feeling of blood coursing through his circulation once more, providing proof of a steady heartbeat. His hand is pale - he studies it as he would an alien object, briefly wondering how long it's been this time.

Footsteps, and a shadow above him tell him that he's is not alone, and the kiss was probably real. He look up from his contemplation to meet Gwen's big, brown eyes, full awe, relief and trust. He smiles at her, and reaches for her. Their hands meet and grasp, reafirming life and friendship.

"What did you do with my clothes?" he asks, humour again quirking his lips. Gwen smiles back, looking giddy.

It's not always like this, coming back. He's only experienced this joy a few times, truth be told. Today though, coming back is the best feeling in the world, and he's going to enjoy it.

Gwen chats to him as he's dressing, sitting next to him, swinging her legs like a school girl. Babble about Rhys, and Cardiff floats to his ears, but he's too high on life to concentrate properly yet. When he's ready, and realising he's starving as well as thirsty, she jumps off the morgue table and hugs him. Warm and close, physical human contact, and suddenly he's whole again, he's 'Jack' again. He squeezes back, that overpowering emotion Gwen stirs in him coming to the surface again. He's still not sure exactly what the feeling is, can't explain where it comes from. He just knows it's something new for him, something rare. Not sexual, not for Gwen - which definitely puzzled him the first time they kissed. It's more akin to how he felt towards Rose, that urge to protect and cherish, to tease and sympathise, to understand and love wholeheartedly. Maybe it's what a best friend feels, maybe a brother.

Whatever, her delight on seeing him makes up for not seeing the sight he had been hoping for. Hand in hand, they walk into the main Hub, still caught up in that warm afterglow of resurrection.

His steps slow, then stop as his eyes latch onto Tosh, working on the far side of the huge area, and a dark blur which could only be Ianto.

Tosh sees him first, her face displaying all the shock and disbelief he had expected. Then she runs to him, and he catches her in his arms as she clings to him. Her breathing is soft in his ear, mumured words meant for him alone,

"Oh Jack, we thought, we were so worried, you left us, thought you'd gone, glad you're not, so glad, you're better Jack, better, we need you..."

A stream of conciousness that was all Tosh, and which warmed his heart further back to life. A stroke of her hair, a kiss on the lips, and the memory to carry with him always, of Tosh lit up from within. Tosh who now carries one of his secrets, who has seen a side of him he usually tries to keep hidden. Tosh - solid, sensible, realiable, and whose good sense he trusts. So her pleasure in seeing him is as gratifying, and as honest, as Gwen's, and he feels as if he has come home.

Looking back across the Hub, he can see that Ianto had risen to his feet by now, and staring as if his world has suddenly turned upside down and inside out. Which, he presumes, is probably a fair estimation of the truth. Tosh breaks away, lets him go, and he waits till Ianto comes to him. The dark, tragic eyes meet his, and even all his long and varied experience couldn't properly read the mix of emotions swirling beneath the surface. Ianto holds his hand out in a manner oh so properly, and he has to bite back a chuckle as he brushes the hand aside and draws the other man into a strong embrace, reassuring, comforting, promising, in ways mere words could never do. This hug is necessary, for this is Ianto. Ianto- who needs him in ways his upbringing could hever let him verbalise, needs him to rely on and draw strength from. Ianto- who is needed in return, just as much and for much the same reasons. Which is probably why he allows himself to kiss the lad, just as he had kissed Gwen and Tosh - although he isn't sure how much more this kiss means. That is something to find out in the days and weeks to come. No need for rush, right now he knows he has all the time in the universe.

Seperating gently from Ianto, he looks up for the missing member of the team. Of course, there, standing on the other side of the Hub. Seperated from the rest of the team, by character, by design, by Owen. Standing there, looking lost and scared, although the sudden lift to the chin proves that Owen knows it all too well.

He walks forward, trying desperately to work out a way to handle this. 'This' being the part he's always envied in others. The ability to sort out emotional problems, the knack of helping those in your care with the right words at the right time. Oh he was good at command, had developed the skills to make people follow him - but trust and loyalty? All those years of life, and he's never learnt how to build those without giving too much of himself, or without falling into the practiced role of silver-tongued conman, which still makes him feel as if he is somehow cheating.

The others had been glad to see him, but his relationship with them was different anyway. This was the crunch test. He'd seen, all too well, how the Doctor had cultivated his own feelings. He'd watched with amazement with some part of his mind, as the Doctor (and Rose as an accomplish) had turned the 'Jack Harkness' he'd become, into someone who cared like they did. Somehow he'd turned away from the pleasure-seeking, enjoy life now, kinda guy his experiences had made him, into someone who cared.

Briefly he wonders what the real Captain Jack Harkness would say here, how would he have comforted Owen, reassured him and given back everything Owen had lost from the moment the gun had been in his hand, until now. He could think of one very good way of creating that confidence, but Owen being Owen, and the start of the twenty-first century being only the start of the twenty-first century; he didn't think Owen would get what he was trying to accomplish with a kiss. No. Ianto had understood, but Ianto was much more receptive to a future perspective than Owen was, however much Owen liked to kid himself he was a forward thinker. So that wasn't going to work.

He puts his hands on his hips and looks deep into Owen's eyes as the other approaches, and tries to hide his panic. Then he sees the answer - reads it clearly in Owen's face. The attitude is pure defensive, yet his eyes are begging. Begging for the forgiveness Owen has needed for so long, begging for reasurrance, begging for his life. And suddenly everything is oh so simple.

"I'm..." Owen chokes off, and the pain is too much to stand any longer.

"I forgive you" he promises, and watchs as Owen nods, and as the barriers visibly fall. He draws Owen to him, head shielded by a broad shoulder, letting Owen just cry it out. Something neither of them will ever mention again - being men and all - but something that will hopefully soften the friction between them, and seal a bond for the future.

He's made a home for himself here - made a family. Many days he feels out of time and place in twenty-first century Cardiff, but the people he has gathered around him can make him forget. Forget that he misses travelling the universe, seeing different places, different cultures and species. Forget that he misses the wonder of different times, meeting the famous, and not so famous, people who shaped the world, the universe, the future. Maybe one day he'll meet up with a big blue box and the Doctor who owns it, and then the life he found made him more complete than any other he has tried will start again. Until then though, he's here, and he's home.

The End

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Et voila! Hope you liked.

Feb 07 


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